We singletons pay no attention to this maudlin day - though I did go to the Epicure to buy a ton of sourdough bread, Quebecois cheese, and a Dufflet lemon tart which is simply divine. Treats! And these tulips are a gift from my beloved friend Anne-Marie, glowing in my kitchen.
Last night, by my fire, I watched a truly terrible movie: Made in Italy, starring the wonderful, hulking, broken-nosed Liam Neeson with his actual son Michéal Richardson playing his son. Totally formula, full of clichés, and yet I watched because - Italy! Tuscany - beyond beautiful, even if the film is condescending toward the lively joyful Italians, with, yes, a gorgeous-woman-eating-spaghetti scene. Still, in the absence of travel, I watch Rick Steeves every week, and films like this. Ignore the script, watch the scenery.
It was interesting to see this offshoot of a famous movie star father. He's got a beautiful face and a lovely aura, but I felt he just doesn't have IT - that drive, that phenomenal ego necessary to rise through the slog and shit of show biz. It was also strange to watch a film about the aftermath of the tragic death of the lead characters' mother and wife, knowing that Michéal's mother and Liam's wife Natasha Richardson died tragically.
I have not mentioned the verdict from the U.S. Senate. No point. Not a surprise. History will judge.
My joys: a glorious sunny day. The blue jays, newly taking over my bird feeder now that I've upped the quality of the seed - so big and loud, what beautiful bullies. Right now, Eleanor Wachtel and some bread and cheese. Tonight, delicious Sunday night TV. But first, the rest of the lemon tart. Life is good.
The tulips are so lovely, Beth. And no surprise that one's thoughts turn longingly to Italy, though I guess it's not the safest place to be these days. But the memories of its beauties...oh,yes. I remember taking the ferry from Naples to Ischia in (I think) 1975, in winter, and the curve of the harbour with its lights and old buildings, and then a bus to Forio for a week in that idyllic village where the dashing Fausto (of course!) took my friends and me for drinks in tiny hidden bars. Looking out at snow now...
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful memory, Theresa. Have you read the Elena Ferrante books or seen the fabulous film adaptations? Naples and Ischia. I too am looking out a a major new snowfall. It ain't Italy.
DeleteBeth, I tried the first Ferrante book when it came out and couldn't find my way in somehow. Maybe it's time to try again.
DeleteI read and enjoyed the intensity of the first one but felt no obligation to read the rest of the series. The TV adaptation is brilliant, one of the best I've ever seen of book to film, just wonderful. I wonder if you can access it. It'd be a good immersion to escape a pandemic winter in Canada.
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